


Petrol-Flavored Love

by Anonymous



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, M/M, Mad Max: Fury Road - Freeform, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/





	Petrol-Flavored Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WithywindlesDaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter/gifts).



There was once a tale of two brothers. 

Rode together, always, their vehicles modified beyond any recognition, held together with bars and bolts and fond tinkering. If they drove separate, it was always in tandem, as if two machines and two people shared a single mind. Their tyre-marks twisted together in insane symphony of burned rubber, impossible hand-turns and perfect parallels. If they drove together, they had each other’s back, always, one wrestling the wheel, the other manning the guns.

If one bled, the other gave him blood. No-one else. Just them. They didn’t take gas; didn’t need it. 

But they weren’t perfect, they were human, with all the human flaws and in love with it. Sometimes they argued and one would drive off in a fountain of sand, sometimes they threw punches at each other, sometimes they talked, for hours and days, ignoring everyone and everything around them. They lied and cheated when they had to; killed when they had to, and stayed together.

The rumour had it that they were heirs to a vast colony somewhere, lost deep under the mountains. One of those really Old ones, where the water was clean and you could still get food in plastic packaging. Where exactly this colony was, nobody knew; but each time the tale was told, the place seemed to acquire new wonders, from gold and jewels filling entire halls, to free gas and nitro flowing in fountains. People said their uncle ruled there, riding the biggest, most bristling with weapons and tech monster truck anyone had ever seen called Smaug.

Quite how they came to leave that paradise, nobody knew.

They have been seen to traverse the vast emptiness of the Earth alone, just them and their horizon, the wild mavericks. They have also been known to join gangs, for a time, and always in return for only one thing: privacy. A single room with a sturdy lock with no other access and no peeping holes. Sheltered by the enclave, but apart from others. Their space. A luxury, but one worth their skill in battle. 

They fucked often; despite their need for privacy, they didn’t try to be discreet. They screamed and moaned and begged as their pleasure took them, and it was the sort of pleasure few others knew or thought possible. People forgot to love each other like they loved each other, forgot it could feel this good, run so deep. War boys would crowd by their door and listen, while their dirty, sweaty hands gave them hollow imitations of what it must have felt like. 

They were generally viewed with something like awe for it, and if someone’s hand wandered too close to one brother or another, a rifle or twin colts promptly removed it. 

But they were liked well enough; or respected, anyway. If there were those who told them that it was through their sins that the world was now fucked, they did so at their own peril. 

They were known to disappear as unexpectedly as they appeared – one day they simply got in their cars and took off, sometimes in the middle of the battle, if they deemed their interest to expire. 

Just how far they had gone, nobody knew. They weren’t there when Fili and Kili tore around perfect flat beaches that ran for hundreds of miles, playing tyre footsy with the waves. They weren’t there when they found deep underground caves with pools of crystal clear water. The weren’t there when they drag raced the perfect stretch of a tarmac among shattered glass and concrete of deserted cities, which had taken them over a week to clear.

And if sometimes they laid on the still-warm bonnet of one of their cars and simply shared the sky together, there was no one there to see it either. 

This was their freedom. Theirs alone.


End file.
